Wish for a Winchester
by Lightning Skies
Summary: I can't do this without you, Dean." "I wish like hell you didn't have to..." Dean's deal is coming due, who will protect Sam in his stead? The third Winchester brother of course. Xander meet your new brothers.
1. Wish You Were Here

_**Wish for a Winchester**_

Lightning_Skies

Spoilers: Post-series Buffy, Supernatural through S3  
Warnings: Nothing much worse than you'd see in the original series, each chapter will have individual warnings  
Pairings: Dean/Multiple Waitresses and Bartenders, Sam/Jess, Xander/?  
Disclaimer: Kripke and Joss have the best toys, I just like to borrow them to play with every once in a while.

"Dialogue"  
*Canon Dialogue*

=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*= Chapter 1 – Wish You Were Here (Pink Floyd) =*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=

_"How I wish, how I wish you were here.  
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,  
Running over the same old ground.  
What have you found? The same old fears. Wish you were here."_

*How could you make that deal, Dean?* There had been an uncomfortable silence between the Winchester brothers for the last hundred miles or so. Neither had even bothered pretending that they weren't upset and thinking deep thoughts. They were sitting side by side in the Impala the same way they had for the last two years, but where Sam used to be able to feel the distance created by his time at Stanford shrinking; now it felt as if there were an impenetrable wall between them.

He'd been quiet and hadn't asked, hadn't pushed- hoping that Dean would respect him enough to explain. They'd been tip-toeing around IT for too damn long. He knew that Dean didn't want to talk about IT- the big IT that was the basis of most of their fights lately. IT- The Deal. The fact that Dean sold himself to bring Sam back from the dead. They needed to talk about the fact that Dean had damned himself. Deliberately.

Dean's lips tightened stubbornly and his hands throttled the steering wheel as he replied with his usual flippancy. *Because I couldn't live with you dead. Couldn't do it.* He wouldn't even turn to look Sam in the eyes.

Sam turned to stare at him, incredulous and hurt, *What, so now, I live and you die?* In what world was that a fair trade. He couldn't believe how little Dean valued himself.

Dean grit his teeth, *That's the general idea, yeah.*

Sam was trying to be understanding here, but Dean wasn't making it easy. Getting pissed at his brother would only make him feel guiltier later when… No. Dean wasn't going to die, so getting angry was fine. *Yeah, well, you're a hypocrite, Dean. How did you feel when Dad sold his soul for you? 'Cause I was there. I remember. You were twisted and broken. And now, you go and do the same thing to me. What you did was selfish.*

Dean still wasn't looking at him. *Yeah. You're right. It was selfish. But I'm okay with that.*

*I'm not.* How could he be. It was like he'd pulled the trigger on his brother himself.

*Tough. After everything I've done for this family, I think I'm entitled. Truth is, I'm tired, Sam. And I don't know, it's like there's a light at the end of the tunnel.*

What light? Dean couldn't possibly really think Sam was going to buy the idea that going to hell was going to be a soothing balm for the weary soul. *That's hellfire, Dean.*

*Yeah, whatever. You're alive.*

Dean was obviously missing the point. He was going to burn, for the rest of eternity and he didn't seem to care. "And you're DYING, Dean. In a year- less than a year now, you'll be gone. Then what? What am I supposed to do without you? You don't think I'm tired? You always make such a big deal about protecting me- and you're leaving me to deal with a world infested with an army of demons- most of who want me dead. ALONE."

"Sammy…"

Sam didn't want to hear it and just cut him off, "No, Dean. You don't get to pretend that this is a good thing. When Jess died and I threw myself into the hunt, the fact that you were watching my back was the only thing that kept me alive. I won't last a week without you, and I've got to say, I really don't want to. I can't do this without you, Dean. I won't."

Finally, Dean turned to look at him, with eyes full of sympathy, but not a trace of remorse or regret. His voice was much softer than Sam had heard it in years. It was the voice that had soothed him back to sleep after nightmares when he was a kid, left behind in one hotel room or another. "Yeah, you will. You are going to stop trying to fix the deal, you are going to let me die and you are going to keep going. Alone. And I wish like hell you didn't have to but---"

The end of Dean's sentence wasn't voiced and would never be heard because with that one little four letter word, the world shifted, lives were altered and the thread of fate twisted. Halfway across the globe, Xander Harris vanished from the heavily warded International Watchers Council's headquarters without a trace.

-/-/-/-\-\-\-

**Lawrence Kansas  
22 Years Ago**

Mary pulled the flannel pajama clad form of her oldest son, Dean, up into her arms, "Come on, let's say goodnight to your brothers, Dean. Then it's time for bed."

As she put him down to turn on the light, he pouted up at her. "But Mom. You said I could stay up until Dad got home."

"That's because I thought he'd be home hours ago. It's getting late. If you let me tuck you in now, I'll send him in to say goodnight when he gets home."

Dean's cute little four year old nose crunched up in thought as he considered her offer seriously. "Kay, I guess that's alright. You promise to tell him? Make sure he wakes me up this time, he didn't last time."

Mary laughed at the indignance on his face. It looked like John was going to be in big trouble if he didn't check in tonight. "I promise, now say goodnight to your brothers."

He scrambled to hop up on the side of the twin's crib, leaning over to kiss each of his younger brothers on the forehead. "Goodnight, Sam. Night, Alex."

Mary tickled Sam lightly as he cooed up at her, before giving him a kiss. *Goodnight, love.* She gently made sure both boys were tucked in and kissed Alex. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

*Hey, Dean.* Both mother and son turned around at the sound of the familiar male voice behind them.

*Daddy!* Dean's face lit up with a huge smile as he ran up to his father and was swept up off the floor into a big hug.

"Hey buddy! What do ya think? You think the boys are ready to play us in some two-on-two football yet?"

Dean laughed, "No, daddy. They're too little."

John pretended to think about that, "You really think so?"

*You got him?* Mary kissed John on the cheek as she headed past him to bed.

*I got him.* John smiled at her as he hugged Dean, who hung tiredly over his shoulder. "Sweet dreams, boys."

Mere seconds after he turned out the lights the mobile hanging over the youngest Winchesters' shared crib began to spin, slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed and momentum. The novelty clock on the wall that chimed the hours in various car noises, ticked slower and slower before coming to a full stop, pendulum paused mid swing. The moon shaped nightlight mounted on the wall began to pulse and flicker erratically.

Mary woke to the sound of feedback static coming over the baby monitor. She groped blindly over her bedside table until her hand came in contact with the damn thing. Fiddling with the knobs on the top she eventually cleared the electronic noises enough to hear the faint whimpers and cries coming from her boys.

With a sigh, Mary turned on the bedside light, simultaneously groping behind her for her husbands form. *John?* When her hand only encountered air, she looked over to see that he wasn't in bed with her. Yawning, she walked across the hall to the twin's room, blearily noticing the male figure standing between their cribs. *John, are they hungry?*

He didn't even turn around, shushing her quietly. *Shh.*

He was obviously taking care of the boys, *Okay.* She turned to head back to bed, only to be distracted by the flickering of the light at the end of the hall. John was the mechanic and electrician in the family, so her expert attempt to fix it consisted of tapping the glass covering until the flickering stopped. *Hmm.* She'd have to get John to check the bulb in the morning. Hearing what sounded like a faint explosion downstairs she followed the noise to the living room, where her husband could be seen in the flickering light of an old war movie sleeping peacefully in his recliner. She gasped in horror, if he was down here, who had she just left with her sons? She hurried back up the stairs, calling for her boys. "Sammy! Lex!"

John was woken abruptly when a scream echoed through the house. *Mary!?* He ran up the stairs to the twin's room, throwing open the door, *Mary! Mary?* He didn't see anything out of the ordinary, aside from the boys' agitated flailing and crying. He'd obviously disturbed them with his aburpt entrance. "Hey, Lex, Sammy. It's okay."

As he gazed down on his sons, a dark fluid dripped onto the teddy bear patterned sheets. Curious, he dipped a finger in it, hoping to identify it, but before he could get a closer look, more of the substance dripped onto the back of his hand. Following the path of the liquid he looked up to see his wife somehow pinned flat to the ceiling, a look of pained terror permanently etched across her face and a bloody gash carved into her stomach. He fell back in horror, *No! Mary!*

Flames seemed to leak out from behind her still form, reaching down in a rush to grab at him. The babies started bawling in fear, their cries shaking John out of his shock. He grabbed them quickly and fled into the hall, dodged the grasping flames.

Dean had heard the commotion and had left his room to investigate, when he was almost run over by his father in the hall. Over John's shoulder he could see a flickering red light coming out of the nursery and felt a terrible heat beating on his face, *Daddy?!*

John thrust his precious bundles into Dean's arms, *Take your brothers outside as fast as you can! Don't look back! Now Dean, go!* Even as Dean ran, he turned back to the twin's room, but wasn't even able to make it through the doorway as the whole room was engulfed in flames. He held his arms in front of his face to try and block the heat and smoke. *Mary!*

He was helpless to do anything but watch as she was totally engulfed in flames and disappeared from view. *No!*

Dean ran mindlessly down the stairs and out the front door, stopping only when he realized that it was cool grass under his feet instead of carpet and a night breeze blowing in his face, instead of a fiery one. He looked back up at the twin's window, watching the flames pulsing and writhing behind the glass and hearing the crackling, "It's okay, Sammy, Lex."

John swept all three of them up as he ran by, carrying them out of range of the explosion that ripped outwards through the windows, seeming to chase them. *I gotcha.*

Newspapers the next day sported headlines about a horrible accidental fire that killed a local woman, but John Winchester knew better. Something had killed his wife, something supernatural and he was going to chase that bastard down if it was the last thing he did. The hunt was on.

=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*= **TBC** =*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=

A/N:

I don't usually do teaser chapters, but this seemed appropriate. In my mind it's like the bit of the episode before the opening credits.

This is a Xander as a Winchester fic. I don't consider it AU because canon is going to bite them in the ass sooner or later. As for the Alex/Xander thing, Willow was the one who named him Xander. Dean/Sam/John/Mary, hell even Bobby, Ellen and Jo are all really classic names and I really can't imagine anyone born in Kansas calling themselves Xander, so Alex it is.

Alex is going to be slightly different than Xander (being raised to hunt by an ex-marine will do that to you), but he's the same person at heart and you will see the Xan-man you know and love later.

I know I kept a ton of the original dialogue here, but that opening scene in Lawrence is kinda iconic to the whole series, I love it and didn't want to alter it too much. There will be more cut and pasted lines that either I really loved or in my mind are Supernatural gospel ("…saving people, hunting things- the family business.")

The title has a dual meaning, both that the wish was granted for a Winchester (Dean) and that the wish created another Winchester (Alex)

Distribution: FFN (Lightning_Skies), Twisting the Hellmouth (LightningSkies)  
Author has given no other permissions. Message if you want it.  
1,896 Words - 5 Pages - 10/25/09


	2. On the Road Again

**Wish for a Winchester**

Lightning_Skies

Spoilers/Warnings/Pairings/Disclaimer – See Chapter 1

=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*= Chapter 2 – On The Road Again (Canned Heat) =*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=

"'Cause it's soon one morning  
Down the road I'm going.  
But I aint going down that long old lonesome road  
All by myself."

**Palo Alto, California**  
**Stanford University**  
**Present Day**

Sam was gratefully sleeping off the shots he'd been good-naturedly forced into drinking by his friends in celebration of his victory on the LSATs when he was awoken by a sound from the other room. Being as quiet as possible and stepping carefully around the floorboards he knew would creak, he made his way to the hall where he saw one of the windows near the front door was open and blowing cold air. It was late October, so there was no way Jess had accidentally left it open. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a human shaped silhouette walk by the doorway into the kitchen. He circled around to Jess' studio and waited by the door for the intruder to come through.

He let the shorter man take a few steps into the dark room, looking him over quickly from behind, trying to judge his threat level. It didn't look like he was carrying any obvious weapons. Sam reached out and grabbed the back of the strangers neck, but when he moved to flip him to the ground, his hold was blocked and turned back on him locking their arms together as they spun around. Sam broke himself free and stumbled back into the living room. He kicked at his attacker, reaching for the sides of the wide doorway for support to balance himself but missed as he was shoved farther back and almost stumbled over the coffee table.

He threw a punch but it was ducked and his arm was grabbed tight, preventing him from avoiding the fist that backhanded him hard across the face. Sam reeled back for a moment, trying to shake off the disorientation. He kicked at where he could vaguely see the man's head but was dodged as the shorter man spun into a high punch, which he blocked only to be hit in the gut with the following fist. Before he could react the other man grabbed him by the collar and wrist, using them as leverage to spin him to the ground, holding both of his arms immobile. "Whoa, down boy."

That voice was familiar. Sam tried to shift to see his attacker better, but was still securely pinned to the floor by the throat, so he had to settle for peering up through his long bangs at his smug looking older brother. "What the-- Dean?"

Dean chuckled evilly, aiming his biggest self-aggrandized victory smile down at his confused sibling. God, he loved getting one up on one of the twins. They ganged up on him too much, it always felt good to prove that he could still take them on mano a mano.

Sam just lay there for a moment, trying to calm his breathing and heart-rate. He let himself mentally switch over from 'kill the intruder' mode to 'plan the unpleasant demise of annoying siblings' mode. He looked up at his cheerfully grinning older brother incredulously. "God man, you scared the crap out of me."

Dean tilted his head knowingly, "That's cause you're out of practice, you big baby."

Sam grabbed the wrist of the hand around his throat and twisted it to one side as he brought his leg up over Dean's back on the other and shifted their weight suddenly, allowing him to flip them over, switching their positions and slamming Dean back into the floorboards with Sam's leg tight around his neck. "Or not…Get off me, sasquach."

Looking down at his still smirking brother, Sam just knew that his night wasn't going to get any better. Sure enough, half an hour later saw him guilted into gearing up and packing for a trip to hunt down the man who told him never to come back and leaving the woman he loved with vague excuses about where he was going and why.

-/-/-/-\-\-\-

They were a few hours out of Palo Alto when they came upon a lone figure walking down the road in worn jeans and lugging a hefty looking dufflebag. The brunette apparently heard the rumble of the Impala's engine and stuck out a thumb hopefully. "Oh, look Sammy. A poor distressed hitchhiker. We should stop and see if they need help."

"Yeah, you're a regular hero, Dean. And it's Sam." He rolled his eyes at Dean's self-indulgent 'I'm so kind and generous' tone.

Dean pulled the Impala over and rolled down Sam's window so he could talk to the hitchhiker. "Hey. It's getting pretty late. You need any help?"

"Yeah, there are all sorts of terrible things that could happen to a poor defenseless traveller out here all alone on a night like tonight." A smooth voice floated through the night and Sam slid back in his seat as an athletically built body draped itself over his door, leaning into the car through the open window. Mismatched eyes, one green, one brown peered curiously into the interior. A flirtatious smirk curled over pouting lips. "Maybe I should get myself a big strong pair of protecters. You boys going my way? Think I could I catch a ride? I'll make it well worth your while."

Sam pulled a disgusted face as Dean eyed the curves of the body leaning in the window with an exaggerated leer. "You do look like you know how to have a fun time. Maybe I should ditch the bookworm and we can find a way to amuse ourselves."

With the horrible images inspired by their banter floating around in his mind, Sam glared at both of them. "You two are such freaks. Alex get in the damn car."

With a laugh, the youngest Winchester brother did just that, dropping his heavy, weapon filled duffle in Sam's lap as he climbed into the backseat. Sam immediately chucked the bag back at him when he sat down. He caught it easily with a 'is that all you got' look. "It's good to see some things haven't changed, Sammy still can't take a joke. That big fancy college of yours is sucking all the fun outta you, twin of mine. What kind of greeting is that for your beloved baby brother?"

"I can't believe I'm related to you two." The much abused middle child mourned his lot in life.

"Aw, you know you love us." Alex leaned between their seats, arms wrapped around the headrests and looking at Dean curiously. "So, what's the big emergency? I had a suspicious disappearance to check out in one of those ghost towns in Arizona. Always wanted to poke around in one of those places. Even if it was probably just some idiot tourist who wandered too far and fell down a dry well."

"Dad's missing."

"Yeah, so? He tends to do that." Alex's voice was quiet as the smile slipped off his face. "It's all about the mission, screw the collateral damage or anyone who might worry about him."

"Well, call me worried then. He's been out of contact for too long and I'd rather be wrong and have you both pissed at me for wasting your time than ignore my gut feeling and be right."

Alex heaved a sigh, "Fine. Arizona's too damn dusty and dry this time of year anyways. Where are we headed and what was he working on?"

"Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago this guy-" Sam shuffled through the papers in his lap as Dean spoke and handed one to Alex. "-- they found his car but he'd vanished, completely M.I.A."

Alex glanced at the newspaper clipping briefly, "So, where's the rest of it? Dad works in patterns, and one isn't a pattern."

"See!" Dean turned to Sam with a smirk, "Lex gets it. You're rusty dude. So, then there's another one from April-" Sam went to hand him the next article, but Alex just reached over and grabbed the whole stack, flipping through them quickly. "One in December '04, '03, '98, '92. Ten of them over the past 20 years, all men, all same 5-mile stretch of road. Started happening more and more, so dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I haven't heard from him since, which is bad enough." Dean pulled out his cellphone, quickly flipping through the menus. "Then I get this voicemail yesterday."

Dean held up the phone as John Winchester's easily identified voice crackled through the speakerphone. "Dean, something is starting to happen, I think it's serious. I need to try to figure out what's going on..." The voice faded behind the static and was inaudible for a moment, "...be very careful Dean, we're all in danger."

"Cheery. So, did you run the EVP yet?"

"That's my boy." Dean shot a smug look at Sam, who rolled his eyes. "I slowed it down, and ran it through a Gold Wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got."

A woman's voice whispered out of the phone. "_I can never go home._"

"Never go home." Sam repeated thoughtfully.

Alex grinned and sat back in his seat, making himself comfortable. "Well, I'm convinced. Seems it's time for the three amigos to ride again."

"Three stooges is more like it." Sam grumbled.

"Yeah, whatever Shemp." Sam glared at Alex, who returned his dark look with one of wide eyed innocence. "What? Shemp was an original stooge, left the group over personality conflicts and only came back when Curly was gone."

"He's got you there." Dean chimed in chuckling "The shoe fits, dude."

Sam smirked at him, "You realize that makes you Moe."

Dean grumbled good naturedly. "Yeah, yeah. I get it, you chucklehead."

"Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk." Floated out from the backseat.

"Shut it, Porcupine!" Sam and Dean called in unison, sharing a smile.

The brothers all settled in for a long drive, each lost in thoughts of how this felt right, being together again. Despite years apart, they still fit together perfectly.

-/-/-/-\-\-\-

Alex woke up when he realized that the ever present purring rumble of the Impala was quiet. He yawned jaw poppingly and looked around to see if he could figure out where they were. It looked like they'd stopped at some middle of nowhere small-town gas station. Dean was filling the Impala's tank and Sam sat with his door open, stretching his long legs out and sorting through a shoebox of Dean's music. The quality of the harsh light filtering down through the stations awning told him that the sun had been up for quite a long time.

"Mornin'." Alex draped himself over the back of Sam's chair, still half asleep.

"Finally. If you slept any longer I was going to check your pulse. You sleep like the dead, man."

"Mmm." Alex yawned again, scrubbing at his face. "Maybe I just feel safe and comfortable with the family all back together again."

"Mostly." Sam corrected.

"Yeah, mostly." He agreed, "But it was much more common that it would be just the three of us together, than that Dad would ever be around."

"Which is exactly why I don't understand why Dean is so worried. It's practically Dad's way of life to disappear and not tell anyone about where he is or what he's hunting. He could kill this ghost, whoever she is, easily. So, why is Dean so worried?" Sam chucked the cassette he was holding back into the box in disgust. Alex wasn't sure if the distaste was for the tape itself or the thought of their Dad. The last time John and Sam had been in a room together the entire family had fallen apart.

"Maybe he just missed us?" Alex suggested, "I don't really know. I haven't seen either of them in a few years. Just a phone call here or there. That's why you had to come and pick me up. Dean called and said he was heading your way and I should meet him there. I was running late because I figured it would take him longer to convince you."

"You've been hunting on your own? Why?" Sam turned to him with shocked eyes.

"You went your way, they went theirs, I went mine. Are you really going to blame me for leaving, Sam?" When his brother wilted away from his look, he knew that Sam still felt guilty for leaving them. A hint of vindictive pleasure ran through him at the thought.

"Hey." They both turned to look at Dean, grateful for the distraction. They were twins and they had shared a bond that went deeper than any other relationships, they had been closer to each other than John and Dean could ever hope to be. Alex was just now realizing how much resentment he really felt for Sam leaving him behind. They might have slid easily back into their old relationships, but even being together again didn't heal the issues that had split them apart in the first place. Dean waved his bag of chips and soda at them as he spoke around a half eaten candy bar, "You want breakfast?"

Sam made a face at Dean's chosen breakfast of champions. "No thanks. So how'd you pay for that stuff, anyway? You and dad still running credit card scams?"

Dean tossed a drink to Alex and hung up the nozzle on the pump. "Yeah well…hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career. Besides, all we do is apply, it's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah and what names did you write on the application this time?" As Dean walked back to the drivers side, Sam pulled his legs back into the car and closed the door. Alex sat back in his seat, sipping at his drink and quietly observing his older brothers. He knew Dean had to have felt the same abandonment and hurt that he had, but Dean was always emotionally stonewalling and it was doubtful he'd ever even admitted to himself how much Sam had hurt him. He'd certainly never brought it up, but Alex probably would have been more concerned if he had. Dean wasn't exactly a lovey-dovey, feeling sharing type. He shivered a little at the thought. That'd just be unnatural and wrong, a sure sign of the apocalypse.

"Uh…Bert Aframian and his son, Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal." Dean grinned cheekily and Sam shook his head disprovingly even as he smiled, despite himself.

"Hector Aframian?" Alex scoffed, "That's the best you could come up with? We're supposed to blend in not stick out. If I were a cashier and I saw a twenty something year old guy with the name Hector, I'd remember him well enough to point him out in a line-up."

"Oh really. I suppose you think you could do better?"

"The last card I had was made out to Nicholas Brendan. A nice normal name for a nice normal guy that no one is going to remember half an hour after I've left."

"And while you two are thinking up fake names and new hustling schemes, meanwhile the rest of us are earning an honest living." Sam protested. "I MUST have been adopted."

"You wish." Alex and Dean both said simultaneously.

Sam sorted through the cassettes for a few more seconds before giving up."I swear man, you gotta update your cassette-tape collection."

Dean looked worried, he didn't think any of them were damaged, "Why?"

"Well, for one they are cassette tapes, and two—" He pulled out a few of the cassettes to use as examples, holding them up, "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

Dean grabbed a tape from Sam defensively and stuffed it straight into the tape deck. "House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole."

"You know, Sammy is a chubby 12 year old. It's Sam, okay?"

The Impala roared to life and Dean cranked up the music. 'Back in Black' blasted out of the speakers as he taunted, "I'm sorry, I can't hear you. The music's too loud."

Alex quietly watched his older, 'wiser' siblings bicker from the backseat. Wise-ass was more like it. "I think I like the rules." He mused, "Less noise over the classics."

"You better be careful Sammy. He just might become my favorite and I'll make a new rule about only letting people with good taste in music ride up front."

"It's SAM!" He retorted futiley over the engine and music, then muttered. "--and my taste in music is fine."

-/-/-/-\-\-\-

"Hey. Check it out." Dean caught their attention to the collection of police cars and cops milling around on the bridge into town as he pulled the Impala onto the dirt shoulder of the road. After a moment's consideration he reached over Sam to the glovebox and pulled out a cigar case. Flipping it open he started sorting through a pile of fake IDs.

Sam looked to the backseat and found Alex rustling around in his duffle and pulling a similar box. "Looks like a party, good thing I brought my invite. Marshalls?"

"Marshalls." Dean agreed as he grabbed an ID wallet. They shared a grin at Sam's bemusement. Dean peered over his shoulder at his youngest brother. "Lemme see those. I'd hate to get nabbed cause you have some shoddy photocopied ID."

"Why do you even have those?" Sam was horrified. He'd always hoped that his twin had shared his desire for a normal life. After he had left, he had assuaged his guilt by telling himself that Alex would have been able to find an opportunity to escape the hunting lifestyle and get himself a regular, safe life. Instead, it looked like his younger brother had embraced the illegal side of hunting wholeheartedly in his absense.

Alex didn't have any idea he was the subject of Sam's internal turmoil and just smiled confidently as he handed over his collection of IDs to Dean, who flipped through them for a moment before whistling. "Very nice. These could stand up to a legit version in any side by side comparision, you'd probably have to run the numbers to figure out they're fakes. You have become a true master at your art, young grasshopper, I have nothing left to teach you. I may just have to get you to redo some of mine. Well, let's go... partner."

"You can't be serious." Sam glared at Dean with his patented 'bitch face.' He couldn't believe Dean was not only proud of Alex for making his own fake IDs but was encouraging him to pretend to be a Federal agent.

"Relax. I taught Lex everything I know about making IDs and it looks like he even found a way to improve on it. There's no way we'll get caught." The eldest of the present Winchesters just smiled in his patented 'devil may care' way and stepped out of the car, ignoring Sam's eyes on his back.

"Dean..."

"Well, seeing as you are too much of an upstanding law abiding citizen to even have a fake credit card, I couldn't possibly ask you to pose as a fraudulent officer of that law you love so very, very much." Apparently, Dean had no problems letting their younger brother commit a felony, and he relished rubbing that fact in Sam's face.

"Don't worry, Sammy. We left you the most important job. You can guard the car." Alex smiled comfortingly at him with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

"It's Sam." He told the empty car as he crossed his arms and scowled. He had always hated it when Dad had left them behind to go investigate his newest hunt, it stung even more when he was left behind by his brothers. He tried to ignore a small voice in the back of his head that asked what he had really expected. He was the one who had left. He didn't have the right to be upset that his brothers had gotten so close in his absense. He couldn't complain about being left behind, not when he was the one who left them first.

=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*= **TBC** =*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=

A/N:

I left off the obnoxious *Canon Dialogue* stars. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

I feel like I'm doing horrible things to Sam's character. I really don't mean to turn him into such a sissy-girly-man, it just kinda happened. Although, I think it's more that Alex and Dean's teasing blows it way out of proportion than he's really that pathetic. Hopefully I'll be able to toughen him up as the story continues. There'll probably be a drastic change after Jess dies and he gets into 'whatever it takes' mode.

I have never been more thankful for my method of writing in my life. I write out dialogue first, then go back and re-read and write out actions, then go back and re-read and write out thought process. Then I'll go back several more times re-reading it dozens of times and fleshing it out farther by adding a sentence here and there. I finished this chapter and started the next, but accidentally saved Ch. 3 over what I had, I almost cried. 2995 words, GONE. Luckily, I went back and was able to re-write it all from memory. I think it's actually pretty close- very, very close... in an 'I'm scared of my brainpower now' way. When I was finished re-writing the bits I remembered, I was only about 400 words under what I originally had. I'd say it's about 97% word for word of the original.

Distribution: FFN (Lightning_Skies), Twisting the Hellmouth (LightningSkies), LiveJournal (Lightning_Skies)  
Author has given no other permissions. Message if you want it.  
3,397 Words - 03/19/10


	3. You Can Never Go Home

**Wish for a Winchester**

Lightning_Skies

Spoilers/Warnings/Pairings/Disclaimer – See Chapter 1

**"Dialogue spoken in unison"**

=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*= Chapter 3 – You Can Never Go Home (Moody Blues) =*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=

_"Memories can never take you back, home, sweet home.  
__You can never go home anymore."_

**Jericho, California  
****Present Day**

"Don't pout Sam, it'll give you worry lines." Alex scolded as he climbed back into the Impala.

"So..." Sam prodded, ignoring the taunt.

"So... what?" Dean asked innocently as they pulled back out onto the road and the flashing lights and tall iron structure of the bridge disappeared behind them.

"So, what's going on? What did you learn?" Sam kicked himself for breaking so easily, but he'd worked himself into a guilty funk while he waited like a little kid in the car while Dean and Alex were investigating. He didn't like how easily he slid back into hunting but he also didn't like how much jealousy he felt that they were so comfortable while he was out of practice. They needed to find Dad so he could go back to school and his girlfriend and not think about the what ifs of a life where he hadn't gone to Stanford.

"Nothing special." It seemed that Dean was just bound and determined to piss Sam off.

"Dean." His voice was flat and clearly declared how unimpressed he was with his older brother's particular brand of verbal sidestepping shenanigans. This was about a hunt- about finding their Dad. It wasn't the time to start joking around. Not that Dean ever stopped.

"He's right Sam, the cops don't know anything. There was another disappearance. No forensics, no clues, no leads."

"As far as their methods go, anyway. Turns out this new victim, Troy, was going out with one of the cop's daughter, Amy. Guess who's putting up missing posters downtown today..."

"And this time you get the fun job- using those big brown puppy eyes to get her to spill anything she knows." Alex added, "I bet she'll fold even faster than Dean does."

"Hey!" Dean objected, "The puppy eyes and bitch face are lethal weapons, and you can't talk, you crumble even easier than I do."

"I don't have puppy eyes." Sam defended, "- Or a bitch face."

Alex and Dean exchanged a look before Alex patted Sam on the shoulder in a condescendingly comforting way, as if he were about to tell Sam something of grave importance. "I'm afraid it's true. You're the sympathetic type whose best weapon is emotional blackmail, enhanced by the long floppy hair, the puppy dog eyes, the overly innocent 'but it's wrong' attitude and the bitch face. You will forever be the one old ladies pinch the cheeks of, the one who'll remind them of their dead husbands. You're the type that always gets stuck in the friend-zone because you're safe."

"Am not." Sam protested lamely, not quite sure how to respond, but settled for glaring at Alex when he poked him in the cheek. What was he, five?

"Dude, you're pouting again." Dean pointed out. He heaved a put-upon sigh and shook his head in exasperation. "You are such a girl. This is why you didn't get any in high-school."

"I'm not pouting, I'm scowling." Sam growled. "You two give me a headache... Besides- Alex didn't get any either."

"It was pity abstinence." Alex argued, turning a little red at the subject. "It would have been pretty sad for me to have sex before my older brother."

"By like 2 minutes."

"Ok, how is it fair that you always get to call protective older brother rights over me, but I can't claim annoying younger brother rights on you. Foul play. I say. Foul. Play."

"Shut it, twerp. You too, bitch."

**"Jerk."**

Dean grinned. "See. You two can agree on something. I just love bringing people together."

-/-/-/-\-\-\-

"Well, if no news is good news, I've been getting great news all day. There's no sign of anyone matching Dad at any of the local hospitals or morgues." Alex reported into his cell, nodding his thanks at the ER triage nurse that'd helped him and returning her smile, as he passed her station on his way out of the hospital. "What'd you get?"

"Aside from the fact that Sammy is a crystal toting new age Wicca expert and over-shares, not much." There was the sound of a 'thwap' and a brief scuffle over the phone before Sam's voice came through, talking over the annoyed 'Dude!' in the background.

"Amy and her friend told us about a local legend. Apparently, there was a young woman brutally murdered out on the Centennial Highway a couple of decades ago. According to the legend, she's supposedly still out there, haunting the road where she died. She hitchhikes, and get this- whoever stops and picks her up disappears without a trace, forever."

Alex frowned, how did these legends get started if none of the victims were ever seen again, that was just idiotic. "That sounds like our case, right down to the fact that 'disappearing without a trace' usually translates to no evidence of foul-play or signs of a struggle left for the cops to find."

"Yeah, we're at the library searching through old copies of the local newspapers for any suspicious deaths on Centennial now." Sam said, and Alex could hear the sounds of typing in the background suddenly get louder. He suspected he'd been put down next to the keyboard on speaker phone. "Here. Dean, look at this. I think I found it. There's an article that ran in a 1981 edition of the Jericho Herald. Suicide case. A young woman, mid-twenties- Constance Welch. Jumped off Sylvania Bridge and drown in the river. It's not a murder- but sometimes suicides are violent enough to leave restless spirits."

Even though he knew they couldn't see him, Alex rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I just don't get it, why does the local legend ALWAYS have to say that poor so-and-so was brutally murdered, because God forbid anyone ever uses a different descriptive word than brutal- even when it was a suicide."

"Legends are really just glorified region-wide gossip that lasts for years, changing a little every time it's retold. Murder is more interesting than suicide. With a murder you have a killer who, in the better stories, is always still at large and hunting for their next target, to better scare the kiddies." Dean made a 'scary' Woo~ noise into the phone.

"Dean's right. Suicide is too neat for good storytelling, there are no loose ends to tie up when the only person the killer is out to get is themselves."

"-And no one actually cares about the truth." Alex concluded.

"Hmm." Dean only made that considering sound when he'd discovered something interesting.

"What? I can't exactly read over your shoulder you know." Playing the information keep away game was more fun when he was in the know.

"Turns out she made a 911 call before practicing her high-dive routine. Her kids 'accidentally' drown in the bathtub. Both of them. At the same time. Either she was raising lemmings or that's a little too convenient. Hey. That bridge look familiar to you?"

Alex spoke up wryly, "I can't say that it does." His only answer was a click and the dial-tone. He pulled a silly face at his phone, but stopped when he got a weird look from the ER valet who was walking by.

"Brothers." He explained wryly gesturing at the cell.

-/-/-/-\-\-\-

The river glinted in what little moonlight managed to filter through the thick cloudcover and the air was filled with the sound of rushing water, chattering at them excitedly. The Winchester trio stared into the rapids, as if the turbulent water was actually going to explain to them exactly what it had seen when Troy and the other victims had disappeared. Alex sighed and looked around, eyes tracking from one end of the bridge to the other without seeing anything worth lingering on.

"Okay, so this was Constance's diving platform. Very nice, scenic even- and yet not holding my interest. Darned ADD. Now what, fearless leader." Alex hopped up to sit on the bridge's thin railing, hooking an arm around a support cable for balance. He didn't want to be Constance take two. She'd had the good sense to jump and drown herself during the spring flooding, but with the level of the river where it was now the best he could hope for was to break his neck on first impact or be painfully dragged to death on the bottom of the river. Needless to say, falling wasn't high on his list of priorities.

"Yeah, Dean. Dad's obviously not here."

Dean paced back and forth in short agitated strides as the twins watched him think, waiting for the game-plan. This was his hunt after all, so he'd have to take the lead. Sam and Alex were still unconcerned about where Dad had holed himself up this time and weren't all that invested in the search, they were only here because he insisted. "He is here. Or was. There's no way that he missed that article. He must have found another sign. We'll just have to keep looking."

"I don't have time to scour town for him, Dean. I have to get back." Sam crossed his arms defiantly and frowned at his older brother. Dean let out an explosive breath and watched Sam in frustration.

Alex jumped down from his perch and stood between them before anyone could start throwing insults or punches. "Okay, there's obviously something I'm missing. What's the rush?"

"Sammy here has a big, important interview on Monday morning."

Alex blinked dumbly at Dean. That's it? That was the big deal? Sam was worried about some dumb nine-to-five? "A job interview? And it's more important than Dad? Can't you reschedule it, Sam? I think that this just might be a _slightly_ more urgent concern."

At this point Sam was feeling really put out that neither of his brothers understood his priorities and both were just dismissing his concern. It was an uncomfortably familiar position. He was the only Winchester that seemed to understand that the hunt wasn't everything. He may not ever be able to be the fully normal civilian he tried to portray at school, but once again he was being shown that he wasn't exactly normal with his family either. It may have been an angsty teenage cliche, but it really seemed that no one bothered to understand him and that hurt. "It's a law school interview and no, I can't just reschedule. It'd look like I can't manage my time properly and I'm trying to give a good impression. This interview could make or break my whole future."

"A lawyer? I thought the family motto was to hunt evil, not become it. Don't you think you're taking this rebelling thing a little too seriously." Alex tried to joke and relieve the pressure he could feel building up. How was it that the thought of Dad could put so much strain on the three of them; he was nowhere to be seen and they were still arguing over him.

"I'm not just rebelling, Alex! Why don't any of you understand that. This has nothing to do with Dad or mom or the demon or either of you. This is important to _ME_. It's what _I_ want. I might not be saving lives or destroying evil or protecting the world one death defying con-job at a time, but I'll be happy and I'll be safe. I don't understand why you're okay with living this way. Don't you want anything more for yourselves? Are you just going to follow Dad around forever, like good little soldiers? Can't you think for yourself for once, Alex?"

Alex's face drained of color, washed away with the sting of hurt that erupted in his chest and he dropped the joking attitude. Sammy really wasn't pulling his punches. Was that really what Sam thought of him? A dumb little soldier that followed every order Dean or Dad gave him. He turned away, looking anywhere but at his brothers and missed the flash of guilt in his twin's eyes.

Sam took a step toward Alex. He hadn't meant to go that far and say that, but- Dammit! They were his family, the ones who were supposed to know him best and it was like they didn't even try to see anything from his perspective. Was it really that horrifying in their minds to value a safe and comfortable life over a hard, painful and dangerous one? It was like they were scared to want more for themselves. That kind of self sacrificing mentality scared him. He didn't want this life for them any more than he wanted it for himself. Short, dangerous and violent wasn't the type of lifestyle anyone should aspire to.

Dean didn't give him a chance to pursue that thought, cutting in roughly. "So... what- you're just going to ignore the danger in the world? Dutifully lock your door every night and pretend that everything is 2.5 kids, a mortgage and a picket fence- and that the law actually has a chance in hell of doing anything to protect people? What does your girlfriend even know about you, Sam? What does she think goes through your head when you sit down on movie night and she's giggling over how unrealistic the ghost is? Because, I SERIOUSLY doubt you've told her anything close to the truth."

"She doesn't need to know the truth, Dean, and she never will. Because that part of my life is over and will never touch her. She won't be forced to wait for me to come home with the constant worry that one day I won't make it. She'll never have to sit at the side of my hospital bed because I wasn't fast enough, or strong enough or brought the wrong kind of ammo. I'll be there for her, the way Dad never was for us."

"Sam..." Alex's soft voice made a small part of him wince, but he was too self-righteously pissed to care. He wasn't going to apologize for telling the truth, no matter how much they didn't want to hear it.

Dean grabbed the front of Sam's carhardtt jacket and slammed him back against one of the bridge's support struts. "Don't you dare talk about Dad that way."

"Dean!" They both ignored Alex's call, too wrapped up in their continuing argument.

"Why, Dean? It's true, and you know it. He was never there for us. I don't see why you're so determined to find him, when he'll just disappear on you again. Just like he always does."

"Will you unobservant morons quit bickering like hormonal girls for a second and _LOOK_, dammit!" This time Alex's exasperated words got through to them.

**"WHAT, ALEX?"** They turned to glare at him in unison, but he just quirked his eyebrow at them, totally unimpressed.

"We've got company, and I didn't think you'd want to air our family's dirty laundry to an audience."He ignored their misdirected anger and pointed down the bridge at the pale wispy figure of the late Constance Welch, standing poised to jump on the railing and watching them. Her white sundress flapped around her legs in the non existent breeze and, as they watched, her translucent form shifted and her bare feet stepped off the bridge as she fell, repeating the scene of her death.

Their hunter's instinct led them to run to the rail, trying to keep the spook within sight, but she had disappeared by the time they looked down into the dark waters. Alex hopped up on the railing again, standing in the same spot as the ghost had moments earlier. "So, we can pinpoint to the inch exactly where she jumped and we know it's definitely her. Next step?"

"What is your fixation with climbing on this bridge?" Dean grumbled. "Get'cher ass down from there."

Alex rolled his eyes at Dean's antics. He had always taken his big brother duties very seriously and had made a lifestyle out of looking out for his younger brothers in the most obnoxious and overbearing way he could. Realizing that he was probably giving Dean heart palpitations over the possibility of slipping over the edge, he conceded that it might be a better idea to just give in to Dean's demands and get down. "God, you're as bossy as ever."

He spun around and made to jump down, but was stopped short when he heard the impala's engine roar to life. He watched in shock from the now comparatively safe railing, as the empty car tore down the bridge past him, chasing his brothers. Cupping his hands over his mouth he shouted helpfully after them, "RUN, FORREST, RUN!"

**"SHUT UP, ALEX!"**

Ironically, after all his concerns over Alex doing a header into the river, Dean and Sam were the ones who dove over the railing and Dean ended up in the river. He was sopping wet, and he'd done it to himself. Sam had been perfectly capable of hanging onto the bridge after jumping the rail. Alex snorted when Dean squished with every step earning a death glare from said squisher. The mental thought of calling Dean a 'squisher' made him snort again, so hard he choked on it a little. Dean clapped him on the shoulder with one mud dripping hand, slinging fetid goo across his back.

"You gonna make it there, Sparky?" His voice positively oozed faked concern as he held his struggling younger brother firmly by the shoulder and reeled him in to his chest for a nice, tight hug complete with the maximum amount of contact possible, smearing Alex liberally with rancid sludge.

"Thanks for the concern, Dean." He managed to escape and picked a stringy bit of… something off of his jacket sleeve and flicked it at Sam who was laughing at them both from a safe distance.

"I'm gonna go get the tarp. We are NOT getting this crap all over my baby's beautiful interior." Dean scraped at the unidentified brown scum drying on his face with his dirty sleeve, but only managed to rub the muck around.

"Autophile." Alex taunted, but Dean just waved a dismissive hand at him as he dug around in the trunk.

Sam stood just close enough to talk comfortably without shouting, but far enough away that he couldn't smell his brothers. "Actually, it'd probably be mechaphile or mechanophile. Autophile just means he loves himself."

Alex snorted. "And even after being corrected, I still don't see that I was in any way wrong."

Dean's hand appeared over the top of the open trunk and waved, liberally applying the middle finger to the situation and conversation indiscriminately.

-/-/-/-\-\-\-

Dean slapped his- or really Hector Aframian's card down on the check-in desk and stared down the old man in his immaculate sweater jacket giving Dean's mud encrusted outfit the evil eye. "One room please."

Having made his distaste abundantly clear the old man reached for his old fashioned guest register with a huff, "S'pose you'll be wanting the room next to your older friend."

Sam smiled weakly at the clerk, "What do you mean?"

"That other guy, Bert Aframian. He came in and bought out a room for the whole month." Alex pointedly refused to look in Dean's direction, because he could just feel the puffed-up look he was getting.

"You wouldn't happen to remember having any Brendan's staying here?"

"Why would I go remembering something like that?"

-/-/-/-\-\-\-

"Jackpot." Alex whistled after Dean jimmied the lock to 'Bert's' motel room. They stepped into what could have been any of the hundreds of rooms John Winchester had holed up in when they were kids with his thought process spread across the walls in a mass of paper clippings, xeroxed pages from demonology texts and post it notes.

"Dad was definitely here."

As they poked around the room, Alex and Sam found themselves reading the same missing person poster and turned to each other simultaneously. They never had been any good at staying mad at each other. They would yell and scream and throw punches, apologize and then get over it just as quickly.

"**Alex, I..."  
**"**Sam, I..."**

They spoke and then paused at the same time, with nearly identical guilty faces. Dean looked from one of his puppy eyed brothers to the other realizing, with a dawning sense of horror, what was about to occur. This emotional crap had to be stopped before they really got going and wanted him to join in, he refused to be collateral damage to an all out oestrogen-fest, "Hey, Mary-Kate. Ashley. Do you two need me to step outside so you can get on with the hugging and crying?"

Alex and Sam shared an understanding look, their moment was thoroughly broken but it was a familiar cycle they'd gone through a thousand times, so they could skip the apologies. Alex shrugged and wandered over to the wall of dead guys. As he was reading he put on a mock-serious voice and absently intoned, "And in every generation there is a chosen one. He alone will stand against the hugs, the touching moments and the forces of chick-flickyness. He is… The emotional retard." He turned away from the articles on the wall to find both of his brothers staring at him, "What?"

"Dude, where do you come up with this shit?"

"Huh? Oh, um, I guess I must have heard it somewhere." He just shrugged it off and turned back to reading John's notes. "Too much He-Man and the Masters of the Universe as a kid or something."

"O-kay, special Ed. I'm going to go wash suicide Annie off." Dean grimaced as the crud on his face crackled and pulled whenever he moved his jaw to talk.

Sam was already untacking articles from the wall and reshuffling them to make more sense to anyone who wasn't John Winchester. "We'll start going through Dad's stuff and see if he left any clear clues about where he is. It's not like him to leave a room all set up like this. He's usually pretty careful about leaving traces of his presence."

"Traces? This is a neon blinking sign 'JOHN WINCHESTER WUZ HERE!'" Alex pulled a photocopied picture of a hell hound off the wall. "Evil scrapbooked wallpaper from the hell is not exactly low key."

-/-/-/-\-\-\-

Alex was finally gunk free as the hot water sluiced over him. He had just washed and rinsed his hair and had worked up a good lather in his repeat when the bathroom door was busted down with an almighty crash. He stopped humming immediately and dropped his hands from where he'd been twirling devil's horns into his soapy hair. His eyes popped open to give him a great view of burning shampoo and a blurred gun that had been shoved in his face. "Freeze, asshole!"

"Frozen." He slapped one hand over his crotch and put the other over his head. The cop just stared him down without any further action or instruction and he shifted uncomfortably, helpfully pointing out. "And naked."

They stared at each other some more, or the cop stared and he just kinda squinted and blinked trying to clear his eyes. It was like the world's crappiest game of Simon Says. Alex held still for what he thought was an admirable amount of time before he cracked, "Can I just.." He slowly dropped his raised hand towards the shower controls, conveniently turning his face into the spray and clearing his eyes. Ah, sweet relief.

"I said freeze!" The guy took an aggressive half step forward.

"Hey, relax. Not going for a weapon or anything. No need for anyone to get excited. Just turning off the water." He spoke soothingly as he kept moving slowly and tried to maintain eye contact with the cop, which was made difficult by the way the idiot's eyes were darting from his face to his hand and back not really seeing either. When the water was off he just put both hands over his groin and relaxed. Alex could think of ten different ways to knock the idiot out and get away, but it would be easier to wait until he didn't have a gun trained on him. He wasn't too keen on getting shot by a half trained and incompetent do-gooder, so he was going to have to wait for rent-a-cop's brain to restart and decide what to do with him. Hopefully, they wouldn't be there all night. From what he could see of the hotel room over the cop's shoulders Dean and Sam had cleared out and left him to get caught. Typical.

"Put these on scumbag. We're taking you in." Another cop walked in from the other room and handed him a pair of Sam's jeans.

"But-" He tried lamely.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way." The guy was obviously not just any idiot townie cop, but also a rookie with lines like that. Alex expected him to follow up with 'Go ahead, make my day.'

He sighed and grabbed the pants, pulling an embarrassing yanking-shimmy-hopping move when his soaked legs got stuck on the denim. He was just lucky he didn't slip and crack his head open, since the first cop still hadn't backed off far enough for him to step out of the wet shower stall. He rolled his eyes when the pants flopped down over his feet. Sam had a good five inches on him.

Alex grunted as he was shoved into the back of the patrol car. He looked up to see Dean. "Fancy meeting you here. Why is it that I'm fine looking after myself for years and then the minute I hook up with you and Sam again I find myself getting arrested?" He squinted at a half-amused half-irritated Dean, through shampoo burned eyes and shook his head vigorously, spraying the whole car with shower water and suds. Even childish minor irritations were still a form of revenge after all.

=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*= TBC =*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=

A/N:

My biggest problem when I start a new story is that everyone is OOC until I can figure out their motivations. I think I got everyone right on in this chapter. My second biggest problem is that I get stuck in canon. I finally got myself out of the copy-and-paste dialogue rut I was in for the first 2 chapters. Only the details of the case aren't mine this time around.

People REALLY hated the nickname Lexy. I don't really see why because even if it is 'girly', a nickname is a term of endearment. (Sammy isn't exactly a burly, masculine, he-man name either.) I'm tired of defending it though, so there you go.. he's not girly he's just named after a supervillain. (I hate the nickname Lex, and I know a GIRL whose full/legal name is Lex, how's that for girly.) I've been told that Sandy is another common nickname for Alexander, so send me a comment and tell me if you prefer Sandy or Lex.

Distribution: FFN, LJ, AO3 (Lightning_Skies), TtH (LightningSkies)  
Author has given no other permissions. Message if you want it.  
4,356 Words – 11/27/10


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